


Dean & Cas Get Married

by sonofabitch_awesome



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 01:06:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3271064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonofabitch_awesome/pseuds/sonofabitch_awesome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just what it says on the tin, there. FLUFFFYYYYYYYYY.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean & Cas Get Married

**Author's Note:**

> I had a terrible, rough, no-good day at work last night and this is how I dealt with it. By writing such serious fluff that I may go into a diabetic coma.
> 
> Cross posted on FF.net under ya-soab.

Dean keeps wanting to pinch himself, because surely, this is only a dream, right? One of those dreams he’s had that he’s always been too embarrassed to admit to _himself_ , let alone anybody else – and one that he keeps replaying all day anyway, hoping nobody sees the small grin he can never completely hide.  
  
He’s worn suits several dozen times over the years, but he’s never quite been _this_ self-conscious about it. Today, it matters.  
  
“You doing all right, there?” Sam asks next to him, knotting his tie quickly. “You look like you’re gonna pass out or something.”  
  
“I might,” Dean mumbles, gripping the edge of the counter to steady himself. He does actually feel a touch light-headed. “Maybe I should’ve tried to eat something after all,” he says, swallowing. He’d been too shaky to manage more than coffee that morning.  
  
Come to think of it, adding caffeine to an already jittery person, and nothing solid, probably only made things worse.  
  
Sam places one hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Breathe. You’re gonna be fine,” he reassures him. “Don’t worry. It’ll be over in a little bit and then we have the wedding party, and there’s gonna be beer and pie and everything else.”  
  
 _And Cas_ , Dean thinks, smiling against his will. Cas, whose idea it had been to keep things nice and casual afterwards, no pretenses, even claiming jeans were welcome if people wanted to go home and change first. His fiancé (Dean blinks, _still_ unable to get used to that word even after an entire year) knows him, every cell inside and out, and knows how difficult this whole shebang is on Dean already without ridiculous “normal” expectations.  
  
“There’s the Cas face,” Sam teases lightly. “See? There you go.”  
  
Charlie pokes her head into the room. “Hey, Dean, you ready?” she calls, tucking a lock of dark red hair behind her ear. “It’s about time!” Her eyes are practically glowing with excitement and a pleased sort of pride in him.  
  
“Yeah,” Dean says, taking another last glance in the mirror. “Yeah, I’m—okay.”  
  
Sam pats him on the back once. “All right. Here goes nothing, huh?”  
  
Dean turns to the doorway. “Yeah,” he repeats, his voice nearly breaking. “I’m ready.” As he walks out of the room, Charlie hugs him tightly, whispering reassurances in his ear. He wordlessly hugs back, and then—  
  
There’s Cas. Cas is standing just outside the courtroom where they’ll be married, talking quietly to Jody and Garth about something. Garth sees Dean walking toward them, and he says something to Cas, grinning quietly. Cas turns.  
  
And then he’s looking at Dean, his face lighting up, and all of Dean’s nervousness is melting away (god, he’s such a girl today) because the only thing that really matters is that he’s getting to hold on to this. This actual _happiness_ thing, this being with Cas thing.  
  
“Hey,” Dean breathes, close enough now to watch the lines at the corners of Cas’s eyes crinkle up as he smiles like the dork that he is. “So, uh… yeah. Let’s… go get married.”  
  
Jody _hmm_ s out a quiet laugh. “It’s good to see you happy, Dean,” she says, reaching forward to straighten his tie. “Both of you. …There you go.”  
  
Dean knows this is usually the kind of time where he’d scoff or make some off-putting remark, like this is no big deal. But he’s having trouble finding the words right now. Or the need. Or the ability to speak, for that matter.  
  
Cas reaches forward and interlaces his fingers with Dean’s, his hand warm and reassuring. “It’s almost time,” he murmurs, his voice low like strong black coffee and every bit as essential in Dean’s life. “I’m ready if you are.”  
  
Dean nods. “Y—yeah,” he says, and together they walk into the courtroom while their guests scatter in and take seats. In addition to Charlie, Garth, and Jody, they’ve invited Donna Hanscum, Linda Tran, Hannah (in an extremely short girl’s vessel with long dark hair), a few additional angels still loyal to Castiel, Krissy Chambers, and a handful of hunters.  
  
As a gesture of goodwill and “no hard feelings”, Sam had insisted they even invite Becky Rosen, but she hadn’t been able to make it and had thanked them profusely for the invitation anyway. Although she’s calmed way the fuck down from the last time they saw her, Dean can’t deny that it’s a relief she hasn’t shown up.  
  
Everything is simple, here. He’d never been able to picture himself getting married in a typical church scene (even _with_ a woman waiting for him instead of a man), and although he’s shaky, the low-key atmosphere is a lot easier for him to deal with. He’d be getting hitched in jeans and flannel if he could somehow get away with it.  
  
The justice of the peace is an older man in his mid-sixties or so, balding and exuding a sense of authority. “Welcome, everyone,” he announces. The name plate reads _Judge Roberts_.  
  
The ceremony is brief and simple. Not that Dean will be able to remember everything later, because the only thing he can focus on is Castiel. Namely, that soft shy smile Cas is wearing, the one that always coaxes a matching grin on Dean’s face without his ever having to think about it. Cas’s blue eyes are practically shining, and Dean realizes with a deep affection for his fiancé that it’s because there are actual _tears_ inside the lower lids, barely held back.  
  
Oh, thank God he’s not the only one feeling like a girl right now – because he’s been biting the inside of his lip to keep from welling up, too.  
  
Cas goes first when it’s time to recite their vows, and Dean’s finding it hard to keep breathing right about now. So he swallows hard and grounds himself in the feel of his shoes being a little uncomfortably tight and this particular suit being a little scratchy in part of his right sleeve, the smell of the flowers in the room and Cas’s cologne, the shape of his lips moving as he speaks of how long he’ll stay with Dean.  
  
And then it’s his turn and he feels almost exactly the same way he did when he was forced to be in a play in one of his second grade classes, where everyone had a role. His was a small one, two or three lines max, but he was terrified and so full of stage fright that he threw up right before it was time, and the teacher took pity on him and did a quick reshuffling of parts so he didn’t have to go on.  
  
Except this is somehow scarier, and altogether worth it and what he didn’t realize before that he’d been wanting until now, now that he’s getting it.  
  
Dean’s voice actually breaks when he starts to repeat “as long as we both shall live,” because against his will, he’s remembering a small apartment living room and a passed out brother and a weakened, ( _god no, please no_ ) motionless form sprawled in an ugly gray chair. He shudders in more air and manages to finish the phrase, blinking hard against his own tears.  
  
Castiel reaches for his hand a bit sooner than scheduled, _knowing_ without Dean speaking a single word what’s going through his mind. And Dean can tell this is what Cas is doing, and not just holding his hands because hey, wedding, by the look in his damp eyes and the way he tilts his head. He nods when he’s finished speaking, telling him _I’m fine_ in their unspoken way.  
  
He feels like Cas is so much more together than he is, but Cas’s hands shake when he pulls out Dean’s ring to slip it onto his finger. Dean almost laughs giddily; they’re embarrassingly in sync with each other. Dean clumsily copies him, placing the matching ring on Cas’s finger and staring at it in amazement, the lighting above shining off the understated gold. He wonders if everyone can hear how loud his breathing is (it feels like a rushing waterfall in his ears) or if they can tell that his heart’s jackhammering with how on edge he is right now.  
  
When the justice of the peace tells them that’s it, it’s official, they can kiss now, Dean’s heart practically stops. And then it feels like it starts making up for lost time as he and Cas draw closer, entwining their arms around each other, Cas’s warmth against him solid and reassuring and _there_. His lips trace over Cas’s, nothing new here, but everything familiar, like rereading favorite sections from a well-loved book to the point of memorization, where every time and every part is still good, still home, still _necessary_. The shape of the dip in Cas’s upper lip, the scratch of his stubble, the tickle of Cas’s dark hair against Dean’s forehead – all of it feels every bit as mindblowing as it had the first time they kissed.  
  
They maybe take a fraction of a second too long, but Dean doesn’t think it really warrants Krissy’s and Charlie’s giggling, a sound of quiet laughter that spreads across the rest of the guests present and then disappears under the applause chasing after. Cas and Dean pull back from each other, slightly red-faced and grinning despite the mild embarrassment. “Sorry,” Dean mutters, taking one step back.  
  
Hannah is clapping hard, her eyes lit up with joy for both of them. The other angels are more subdued, but they’re smiling, no animosity to be found on any of their faces.  
  
“All right!” Garth calls out, applauding with his hands over his head. “Finally!”  
  
“Ladies and gentlemen, I now pronounce you Mr. and Mr. Winchester,” the justice of the peace announces, a bit late after the applause and laughter. Castiel laces his fingers with Dean’s and clenches tightly, his ring pressing into Dean’s fingers. He can see the details of Cas’s ring easily in his mind’s eye, a near-perfect match to the one he now wears, Enochian symbols decorating the inside. Cas’s says _I need you_ ; his own, _I’m doing this for you_ (or as close as they’d been able to approximate – _I do for you_ ).  
  
Sam’s beaming so hard it looks like he’s on something, damn near every tooth visible as he finally stops clapping and everyone gets to their feet. He’s the first to make his way to Castiel and Dean, crushing them both in a massive hug. “Congratulations, Dean, Cas,” he states, pulling back. He claps one hand on Castiel’s back. “And may I say, I am proud as hell to have you as a brother-in-law.”  
  
“Thank you, Sam,” Cas answers in his uncertain, trying-to-be-human way. “You too.”  
  
“Hey.” Sam briefly squeezes Dean’s shoulder. And he looks so proud that _he_ might as well be the older brother here. “I’m really, really happy for you. You know that, right?”  
  
God, anything he says right now is going to come out girly, so Dean merely nods and gives Sam his best “you know it” grin. “Thanks,” he eventually manages. 

  


 

Dean had joked about forgoing the cake for a massive selection of pies, and part of him had been serious. Only part, though. The one they’ve planned on (apple) is good enough for him.  
  
So he’s completely taken by surprise when they get to the hall and there actually _is_ an area near the cake with no less than _seven_ different pies. He grins, mood that much higher. “Holy shit, Cas,” he says, looping an arm around his new husband and clutching Cas’s shoulder. The unfamiliar press of the gold ring against his other fingers makes his head spin a little, because even though it _just_ happened, he still can’t believe this day is real.  
  
“I know you,” Cas answers, turning to kiss the top of Dean’s cheekbone. “You weren’t joking. Besides, if we can’t have pie _today_ of all days…”  
  
Son of a _bitch_ , every time Dean thinks he can’t love Cas any more, he’s proven wrong. “You’re unbelievable,” he murmurs, stopping them in their tracks and standing directly in front of Cas. Guests be damned. He lets his hands drift up along Cas’s clean-shaven jaw, pulling him in, breathing him in, pressing his lips to Cas’s.  
  
Teases and cheers erupt all around them, but it takes Dean a moment or two to realize. Eventually, he withdraws his tongue from Cas’s mouth and pulls his hands away from his husband’s dark hair, catching his breath. He lets his forehead rest against Cas’s for a second, and then remembers again where they are. “Okay. So. Okay, then,” he says slightly pointlessly, stepping back.  
  
“You guys gonna cut the cake or do it right there?” someone yells out in a familiar Minnesotan accent. Donna. Of course. Dean actually blushes and strides forward determinedly to the table.  
  
The cake is really pretty simple, no flowery decorations or girly colors. But plenty of frosting and _Congratulations, Dean & Castiel_ scripted across the middle. Dean picks up the knife next to it, and with Cas’s hand covering his, slices straight down. He gets about half of the cake diced up before he backs away. Now it just says _Congra_ / _Dean & Ca_ , but there’s plenty of pieces to pass around.  
  
Everyone seems pretty happy with the food. There’s a wide variety of stuff, not just the typical banquet-hall stuff like rigatoni and salad and whatever, but also fried chicken and burgers.  
  
The cake pieces dwindle rapidly, but Dean sticks to the pies.   
  
So does Castiel.

**Author's Note:**

> I do feel like I ended it rather abruptly, but I wasn't 100% sure *how* to end it? Like, I didn't want to keep going and going... so yeah.


End file.
